


Affinitas

by reginahalliwell



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Logan POV, Post - X-Men: The Last Stand (2006), Present Tense, Rogue POV, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-02-17 14:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reginahalliwell/pseuds/reginahalliwell
Summary: She comes back from Worthington Labs, not the Rogue anymore but not the old Marie either.Logan/Marie slow burn fic, likely about 10 chapters or so. Some Bobby/Rogue in initial chapters. Rating will change.





	1. Līmina

It’s Logan she’s most nervous to see when she returns.

Marie knows that Bobby will be overjoyed for her, for both of them. But Logan, despite his reassurances to the contrary, may judge her for the choice she made. 

She walks to her old room, the one she abandoned, the one that shouldn’t really be hers anymore. She’s no longer a mutant, no longer a part of the X-Men, no longer a danger to her peers, no longer in need of control.

No longer untouchable.

She unpacks her small overnight bag, puts her clothes away, and pulls out some that she’s excited to wear. She can show some skin now. Maybe not a lot, not all at once anyway, but some.

She turns around, and Bobby’s there. Her sweet, ice-wielding boyfriend who doesn’t even know her real name.

  
“Rogue,” he calls, and she faces him, her smile hesitant and hopeful. She hopes he will react the way she wants. It’s only been a few days, but so much has changed and there’s a void between them that wasn’t there before. She’s not the same person as she has been the past few years, but she’s also not who she was before her mutation manifested.

“Have you ever tried _not_ being a mutant?” she remembers Bobby’s mother asking him the previous year.

She’s trying now.

She doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and holds his hand in hers, her bare skin touching someone else’s on purpose for the first time in a long time. Marie has craved touch, affection, any kind of physical contact for so long now. When Logan’s gone, she barely gets any. Even with the gloves on, after she hurt Bobby last year, he’s been hesitant to touch her.

That’s why their physical relationship hasn’t progressed much since. 

She’s not the frigid one in the relationship, literally or figuratively.

Besides, a little part of her has always been holding out for Logan.

Marie pushes the thought out of her mind and focuses on the feel of Bobby’s cool hand in hers, the tingle of her fingertips as his touch excites and stimulates her long-ignored nerves.

“I had to,” she says, defensive even as his hand holds hers tighter.

“You don’t have to justify this, Rogue.” She smiles, and pulls a strand of hair out of her face as she moves closer.

She doesn’t say it, but her eyes are asking him to kiss her, and she’s leaning in. He wants a kiss that doesn’t give her any of his gift, that doesn’t mean freezing himself so she can’t absorb him.

He wants to be able to give her parts of himself without a mutation compelling them away. To kiss her without feeling like it could turn disastrous at any moment.

Marie’s lips awaken as their mouths meet. Her nerves fire, her brain confused at the unfamiliar feelings. She panics and steps away, pulling her hand from his like she’s worried her mutation will be jarred back to life too.

A moment passes and nothing happens. He looks at her, reassurance in his eyes. She calms, realizing that the feelings aren’t the result of her mutation, but her hormones.

A long sigh of relief escapes them both, and Marie laughs nervously. “I didn’t think I would ever get to feel that,” she admits, blushing.

“Me neither,” Bobby agrees. “Do you want to…?” He trails off, and Marie knows what he means. Try again, does she want to try again?

And she does.  


Right now there is nothing she wants more than to kiss Bobby, to feel someone want to touch her instead of being revolted and terrified at the mere thought. 

He leans in again, closing the distance between the two of them. Linking hands with her and intertwining their fingers, Bobby kisses her softly, their mouths just briefly parting before returning to kiss again. This time, she doesn’t jump away in fear. There’s no reaction, not from her skin at least.

“Rogue?” He asks her, pulling away slowly.

“Call me Marie,” she says, knowing that whatever part of her was the Rogue is gone, or at least dormant now.

“Marie.” He says, rolling the word from his mouth like the revelation it is. “I like it.”

She doesn’t know where she fits in with the school or the team or the world anymore. She doesn’t know if she has a family again, or can live as much of a normal life as she used to want when it was completely off the table. She doesn’t know any of that.

But Marie does know that right now, in Bobby’s arms, she feels wanted.

~

It’s a while before they part and Marie goes to find the only other person at the mansion she really gets along with. Logan is in the danger room. She can see from the one-way mirror looking in that he’s pummeling some holographic anonymous giant mutant, claws sheathed on both hands so it lasts longer.

He’s in a mood, she can see that. He needs to fight, needs to get out his aggression. He’s in the danger room instead of a local dive because he needs to kill.

She’s seen him this way before. Usually when it happens, this is where he comes to let off steam. At least, some of the time. Some of the time she knows he finds women, anonymous barflies that want him to be angry and rough and impersonal, and of course she knows he’s more than willing to oblige. He’s never let her come see him fight, but then she doesn’t think the aftermath is something she’d want to see anyway.

He continues beating on the holographic mutant a few minutes more, then gives in and lets out his claws with an enraged cry. He drives his right fist directly into the mutant’s neck, severing the imaginary spinal cord and catching the jugular artery. The mutant collapses and Logan—Wolverine, right now—pulls back and screams, growling and panting as a few more mutants spawn in the area. He must have created this program to keep going whenever he killed one of the targets. 

A _really_ bad mood, then.

This probably wasn’t a good time to talk. She was already concerned about how he would react. She hoped he would be happy for her, but he clearly wasn’t in a good headspace right now. She should find him another time.

As she’s contemplating this plan, the simulation ends and Logan comes barreling out.

She’s startled out of her wits. For all the time that she had been watching Logan in the danger room, she realizes she hadn’t really thought through what she was going to say to him. 

Marie has a few more moments to think while he catches his breath, chest raising rapidly as he breathes through his cool down. Marie pays close attention to the rise and fall of his fit form, noting the sweat staining his white tank, the blood congealing on his knuckles outside the healed cuts from his claws. She sees the sweat on his hairline, his normally wild hair even more tousled than normal in his fervor.

“Did you know I was here?” she asks, suspicious of the sudden end to his workout, especially given how invested in destroying those random mutants as he appeared to be.

He nods, once, wiping both hands on his jeans so the little blood transfers to the dark denim. “Smelled ya,” he offers as an explanation.

As much as that should creep her out, it’s something she’s always known about Logan. A feral mutant like him can smell a lot more than someone’s presence, though, so now she wonders what else he knows about her. 

“And?” she asks expectantly. Does he already know what she’s about to tell him?

“You don’t want to tell me yourself?” he asks.

She nods a little uneasily. “I had to do it, Logan.”

He looks at her like she knows better than to say that.

“Okay,” she concedes, “I felt like I had to, because I’m afraid.”

“I know, kid. I get it, really.”

“You’re not disappointed in me?” The way she asks, tilting her head up, and looking at him with those pleading eyes, he knows this is a moment where he can’t break her down. She may never pick herself back up. 

“I understand why you did it. I want you to be happy, Marie. I just hope you don’t regret it.” The words come out without any vitriol attached, but she can hear the concern in his voice. He looks down at her.

“Me too,” she whispers, more to herself than to him. 

“C’mere, kid,” he beckons, but then, he’s never shied away from giving her any sort of friendly affection. When they’re sitting together, he puts his arm around her shoulders, when she’s crying he holds her hand, and when she needs one—or when he does, but he can’t ask for it—he gives her a hug.

She nods eagerly. He wraps his burly arms around her, holding her close just like he always has. She turns her head into his sweaty chest, her brow resting on his bare skin. He’s sighing as he feels the absence of her mutation, the feel of her skin not trying to take him in.

“I can’t say that I like not being able to save you if something happens,” he observes begrudgingly.

“I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Without my mutation, I don’t have much appeal to the bad guys.”

“Still,” he says. “Accidents happen.”

“Well, I’ll be careful. Bobby’s not as likely to freeze me to death as I was to put him in a coma,” she considers, laughing darkly.

“You didn’t do this for him, I hope,” Logan asks, not really wanting the answer. If she did this for that twerp, he didn’t know what he would do…

“I did it for me,” Marie said. “And maybe a little for, well, not for Bobby exactly, but for the chance for a real relationship. One where I’m not worried I’m going to kill my boyfriend every time he tries to kiss me.”

“Just gotta get more creative, kid,” he mutters, then regrets it when Marie’s face flushes. “Not that I’m encouraging,” he groans, breaking off his thought. “I’m just saying, a real relationship doesn’t have to mean a ‘normal’ one.”

There’s a quiet moment as they both take in what he’s just said. 

“I should go,” Marie says, slowly pulling away from Logan’s embrace, holding the feeling of being in his arms skin-to-skin in her mind, locking it away to keep safe forever. “Bobby and I are going to watch a movie. Some action thing.” 

She’s certain it’s obvious she doesn’t care as much about the movie as the cuddling they both know is going to happen while watching it, but Logan doesn’t call her out on it. She knows things about him he wouldn’t want said aloud, and he appreciates her for that.

“Sure, kid,” he says. “Have fun.”

As she turns to go, Logan calls her back. “What is it?” she asks.

“Listen, I just want you to know, I’m heading out of town for a while. Got some stuff up here,” he says, tapping his temple, “that can’t get worked out in the danger room. Think I’m gonna head north for a bit.” And do some dirty fighting, he doesn’t say. And fuck a ton of women, he doesn’t say. And hole myself up in my cabin so no one can see me grieving, he doesn’t say. 

She knows why he’s going, and honestly, she’s surprised she gets a heads up. Occasionally she goes to see him only to find he’s run out again with no word of when he’ll be back. This is better, cause she can see that he needs to go. He’s not just leaving because he wants to. She can see that he’s in pain, that just being here reminds him too much of Jean. He can’t escape her here, can’t escape what he had to do.

Marie ambles back to where he’s standing, his breathing returned to normal and the sweat no longer dripping from his hairline. She tilts her head and looks thoughtfully at him.

“We’ll miss you,” she says. “Don’t be gone too long.”

“ _You’ll_ miss me,” he corrects. “Can’t say the same for the rest.”

“Just hurry back, Logan.”

“Please, you’ll hardly notice I’m gone, kid.” He thinks she’ll be tied up—hopefully not literally—with the Ice Man. Too much to miss him. 

She shakes her head in disapproval. “That’s what _you_ think. Be careful,” she warns, worried that one day he just won’t come back. That he’ll find the limit of his mutation, his healing won’t be enough to save him, and she doesn’t think she could ever get over that. 

Even though she’s with Bobby, a piece of her is still his, and he’ll always be in her head. Logan and Magneto and David and John. She has more company than she could ever want, but she’s always felt alone. Maybe not anymore. 

“I’ll be back, kid, no worries on that front.”

“Before I’m thirty, please,” she jokes.

“Plenty of time, then,” he teases. She sticks her tongue out at him, but they’re both painfully aware that she’s eighteen now—almost nineteen—and fair game.

The moment passes and she moves right up to him, her hands resting gently on his bare biceps as she leans in to press a soft his on his cheek. His breath shudders at the affection, slowing for a moment as he relaxes at the touch of her lips to his facial hair. Nuzzling into him for another hug, remembering that this is the last one she’ll get from him for a while, Marie wishes time would stop so she can savor every moment of their embrace. 

She’d never felt afraid or uncertain about her own affection for Logan, knowing that their bond was something few could or even tried to understand. In this moment, when she knows that something has fundamentally changed about her, she feels the hint of a change between the two of them as well. Marie clears her throat and pulls back, her fingers lingering as they grasp for that flighty electricity of her bare skin on his.

“Bye, Logan,” she says, stepping back and half turning to leave.

Dumbfounded at the feeling of her lips on his cheek, Logan can do nothing but nod a farewell as she turns and heads off to find Bobby. He can’t bear to watch her like this, not when he wants to be the one touching her, when he worries she did this for the wrong reasons, when he’s still grieving for Jean.

She hasn’t ever kissed him on the cheek before—he had kissed her head over her hair, and even her bare forehead when she had been unconscious from the machine.

This was new.

They’ve all dealt with so much pain, so much trauma. Then again, everyone deals differently.

Some people get a haircut. Logan’s going on a fighting spree.


	2. Frāctī

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marie and Bobby pick up where they left off; Logan takes a detour.

He’s glad to see Marie so happy, and even to feel that spark of something inexpressible between them. But it doesn’t take away from the rage and pain he feels. He killed Jean. He killed her.

He killed her to save everyone, and because she wanted him to. 

When Logan goes to sleep at night, he sees Jean staring back at him, begging him to kill her. He was the only one who could. She killed Scott. She killed the Professor. She was a loaded gun ready to go off… no. She was a building full of C4 with a short fuse.

His Jean had already been gone. 

She may have risen from the ashes, but the creature that came back was far more dangerous than Jean had ever been.

Her eyes torture him at night. His own guilt tortures him during the day.

He can’t do it anymore. Logan just wants to forget, to lose himself in a fight or a fuck or freeze nearly to death for a few months so he’s numb. As much as Marie decided to run away from her problems, Logan knows he’s doing the same thing now.

Still, when he takes the camper he purchased a while back, putting the bike—Scott’s bike, he thinks—into the trailer behind the truck, he knows he’s doing the right thing. Logan’s not in any condition to be around people right now.

He’ll go away, and then when he comes back, maybe he’ll be able to look Storm in the eyes, to teach those kids without the weight of his guilt wearing him down. Maybe he’ll be able to get through a day without wanting to pummel someone. Well, probably not.

Still, as he drives north into Canada, Logan knows that running doesn’t help. None of it really does. What he needs isn’t to destroy bodies and break down his own until he’s magically healed. He needs to weep, really truly grieve the losses. To cope with his own actions.

But it’s easier to fight. Fighting is what he knows.

Hours later, before he knows it, Logan is pulling into a parking lot of a bar on the outskirts of Sudbury. It’s as good a place as any to stop for the night, but he can’t get into anything crazy here—it’s too populated. But he has a friend in Whitefish just south, and sometimes he catches a Wolves game when he’s in town.

It’s a long way to Yellowknife, and Logan doesn’t have it in him to keep driving tonight. Marie joked with him once that he was crazy for wanting to drive almost a week when he could fly there in a day. Now she understands what it feels like to be helpless, to be trapped and stuck and feel caged in. He didn’t ever want her to learn that lesson, but she did anyway. He prefers the road, even if it means he’ll spend a ton of money on gas and a lot of cold nights in the camper. Safer that way.

He gets out of the truck, keys deep in his pocket. His flannel shirt and leather coat are plenty warm for this time of year, but he’ll be cold later when the sweat cools on his clammy skin.

Good fighting tonight, he hopes.

“Molson,” Logan says to the bartender, walking right up to the counter. Barstools with scratched up wood and ripped plastic covers are mostly taken, but there are a couple left open. “And Collingwood, a double.”

It’s early in the evening but he likes to get a good buzz going before fighting. It hurts less, unfortunately, but he also bleeds more freely, which makes it more difficult for losers to come after him. Trouble is, building up a buzz for Logan is pretty expensive.

He throws back the whisky, gesturing for another. Chases it with the beer. Collingwood isn’t his favorite, but it’s not piss either. 

He savors the second drink, enjoying the smooth burn down his throat, the caramel texture and color of the rye.

He beckons the bartender for a third, tossing some wrinkled cash onto the bar as payment. He’ll make enough tonight to get a few bottles and then some, if he wants.

Some assholes are shoving each other behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck tickling in awareness. He finishes his beer. Time to fight.

~

Logan’s been gone more than a week, and Marie wishes she had just one more person to support her. Kitty and Jubilee have been on a mission since before she left—some of the only familiar faces she has, and they haven’t been around. The only person left here that she really trusts is Storm, who’s busy overseeing what’s left of the Professor’s legacy. New students, new problems, not enough faculty… she’s the one dealing with it all. Storm doesn’t have time to play therapist to Marie. Still, it would be nice to see a friendly face again.

Marie and Bobby are on the bed in her room. Bobby used to share with John, but now he’s in with Piotr. She’s had her own room since the “Nightmare Incident” her first week here all those years ago, and now Jubilee and Kitty share while she has her own space.

Not that she needs it anymore. There’s no reason to fear bumping up against one another as they pass through the doorway, or accidentally touching in the dark. That doesn’t matter anymore. She’s sure now that there’s so many more children here and they are a few X-Men down, people will be playing musical bedrooms anyway.

Bobby’s hand is under her shirt now, toying with her skin and just generally enjoying that he can touch her. She’s trying to be in the moment, to savor the feeling of, well, feeling. She can sense the hairs on ribcage rising to rigid attention in awareness of a bare hand on her skin, the newness of touch beyond her own.

But her mind wanders.

She’s glad that Bobby’s mouth against hers means both their eyes are closed, that they’re grappling together on the bed gingerly, like they are getting to know each other but are still strangers in this way. 

Marie thinks about her own touch, the places only her own hand has ever been. Places where even Logan has never touched her.   


The truckers on the way to Alaska don’t count. Besides, it was mostly her touching them. 

She thinks about Bobby’s hands—warm, unlike his usually icy fingers when they wanted to be intimate before—and how even though they’re warm, she shivers when they reach her stomach, her breasts, the crease of her jeans.

Even places usually covered with clothing have been somewhat off-limits before. Marie can feel Bobby’s other hand groping her left buttock, pulling her up against him so their bodies touched all over.

She’s never really had someone’s hand on her ass. It’s a weird feeling.

Everywhere he touches, Marie wonders if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, if this is what everyone else feels when they get caressed and squeezed and stroked for the first time.

Bobby’s hand is on her face now, calming down from the initial excitement of just being _able_ to touch her everywhere to realize that even though he can doesn’t mean he should. They’re close, but maybe not _this close_. Instead, he focuses on stroking her hair and holding her cheek as they kiss, on the bare skin of her waist as he holds her to him, her shirt riding up.

Their attention is redirected from each other to the space by Marie’s bed as an unwitting Kitty bursts through the wall. “Rogue,” she exclaims, then realizes what is going on. A look of disappointment and sadness crosses her face before she puts on a smile. “So it’s true, then?”

Bobby and Marie pull apart quickly, readjusting clothing so that they look more presentable.

“Kitty, you know I don’t like it when you walk right into the room,” Marie scolds gently. It used to be because Kitty couldn’t ever be sure where Marie was or how covered up, and it almost resulted in a few brushes with bare skin here and there over the years. For Kitty’s own safety and Marie’s peace of mind, she had gently requested that her friend knock at the door instead of entering through the walls. 

Now, it’s more that she sees Kitty as a romantic rival, and she also has more private things occurring behind closed doors than she would like to be burst in on. Kitty had chosen the perfect time to break their established protocol, and it put everyone present in a very awkward situation.

Bobby pulls his jacket across his lap, looking anywhere but at Kitty.

Kitty looks at Bobby, then anywhere but at Bobby.

Marie looks at Bobby, then back at her friend to say, “It’s true. I just had to, Kitty. You know what it’s been like for me.”

Kitty walks up to her hesitantly, and Marie holds up a hand. Even when people have incontrovertible proof in front of them, she knows people that had known her _before_ would probably always hesitate a little bit. 

After all, she flinches a little bit herself, and it’s her own skin. She can’t imagine other people’s fears needing to be overcome, retraining themselves to not shy away from her. 

Kitty’s fingers touch hers, and Marie smiles. Kitty grabs her hand more tightly, smiling at the lack of any reaction from Marie’s skin. “Wow!” Kitty exclaims, pulling her in for a friendly hug. Despite the awkwardness involving Bobby, Kitty is still Marie’s friend.

“How do you feel?” Kitty asks, looking at their touching hands in continued astonishment. “I can’t believe it worked!”

“I feel okay,” Marie says, pulling her hand back with a gentle smile. “It’s going to take some getting used to, but right now I’m just trying to tell myself I did the right thing. Despite what some people think,” she says, recalling the looks she got from of the other mutants at the school who knew about her trip to Worthington Labs.

“Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it, Rogue,” Kitty consoles. “It’s your mutation, and I don’t think anyone else has the right to tell you what’s right for you.” 

“Thanks, Kitty. I wish everyone felt that way.” 

Bobby picks the worst time ever to chime in. “Well, I’m glad you did it.”

They both look at him, and Kitty realizes again what private moment she walked in on. “I should go,” Kitty says, “But I just had to see for myself.”

“I’m glad you’re back safe, Kitty. I’ve really missed you around here.”

“Me too. Hey, I was also going to tell you… Jubilee is in the med bay. She’s fine, she’s just getting checked up because she took a couple of hits on mission and her powers are on the fritz.” 

“Oh my gosh,” Marie exclaims, skipping right past the part about Jubilee being all right and focusing on the med bay aspect.

“You should go see her,” Kitty says, glancing _almost_ imperceptibly at Bobby.

Marie pauses, debating. The part of her head dedicated to Logan rails against the idea of visiting the med bay. Even though there are no unfriendly faces there, it’s still so deeply ingrained her to fear such places. To flee them, violently and immediately. But she would like to see Jubilee. Not to mention Marie could use some perspective on her mutation and the cure from someone not invested in being able to touch her.

Bobby wouldn’t ever be objective, and Logan wasn’t there. She couldn’t really trust Kitty’s words so much any more given her barely veiled motives. 

“I think I will,” Marie decides. “Bobby, I’ll see you later?” she asks, walking towards the door and implicitly asking her friend and boyfriend to follow her. She didn’t want either of them hanging out in her room, and she especially didn’t want the two of them in there alone together.

Bobby nods and smiles, but as soon as she heads down the hall, Marie can see the two of them talking, already thick as thieves.

~

Logan hadn’t arrived at his cabin near Yellowknife after all. Something had possessed him, when he woke up that morning in Winnipeg, to continue on the Trans-Canada Highway instead of taking the Yellowhead like he normally did. Instead of passing through Saskatoon and then Edmonton before going north to the Northwest Territories, Logan had kept going due west. He had spent a night in Regina before moving on to Calgary. There, he realized what he had done.

Alkali Lake.

The Wolverine had fucking brought him back here. Where it all happened. Where he had lost Jean, where Jean had killed Scott. Where he had been tortured, mutilated, rebuilt from the inside out. He had lost himself here nearly two decades ago, and become someone—something—else. 

And now, the animal inside him wanted to pay a visit. 

It was fitting, really, that his grief and rage and helplessness would bring him back to this place where so much had gone wrong.

The previous night, Logan had made the decision. It was still warm enough that the pass into the mountains west of Calgary wasn’t closed, and even if it were, he still might have decided to go.

Now, Logan sits on a massive boulder at the edge of the new Alkali Lake, risen up several feet from its previous depth. He doesn’t want to relive his shitty memories, but he does need to pay homage to them, so he pitches a tent on the west side of the lake. He can still see where the base entrance was, and the remnants of the dam are still barely visible, but he’s not right in the middle of it all.

He decides to sleep there a few nights, camp right next to his demons and make sure they can’t come back to haunt them any more. This trip may have started with Logan running away from his problems, but he in the end, he ran right towards them.


	3. Revēlātus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just pretend Logan still has his tags.

“So, chica, did the doc tell you when I’m getting out of here?” Jubilee is in no way dimmed by her stay in the med bay, and she is as feisty and effervescent as ever. 

“They just keep telling me you should stay for observation,” Marie repeats. “And since neither of us seems to have a way of doing anything about that, for now it seems like you’re stuck.”

“I guess. So, I need details. Have you and Bobby done the dirty yet? Who am I kidding, Roguey, of course you have. An untouchable hormonal teenager suddenly becomes touchable—I’d be surprised if you didn’t even wait to lose it until you got back to the boyfriend.”

“Oh, hush, Jubes.”

“You’re kidding. You really haven’t?!”

“We couldn’t do much of anything for our entire relationship, so we’re not suddenly falling into bed together. Who do you think I am?” 

Jubilee gives her a look that says for the right person, Rogue would definitely fall into bed with _someone_ immediately.

“Alright, alright. Does the Mississippi girl need the sex talk still?”

Marie laughs heartily, the gap between her two front teeth prominent as she smiles. “Hardly. Just because I haven’t done the deed doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

“Go Rogue,” Jubilee interjects, smiling devilishly.

Marie blushes a little, looking down as she thinks about all the ways she has imagined her first time. A long time ago, she had almost given up hope that it could look like what the movies always showed. She didn’t want it to be perfect, but she wanted to be able to be naked, to be touched and worshipped and held. She wanted the option to go condom-less, even though she knew all the particulars about safe sex.

They had tried hormone therapy to control her mutation almost a year ago, which had temporarily thrown off her body’s fertility anyway. It hadn’t done a thing for her skin, and the accidental contraception had faded with the lack of injections. Not that Marie had been in danger of getting pregnant at that point, or ever.

But besides Marie fantasizing about sex in the “normal” way, she had also let her mind imagine ways she could still make it work with her mutation active. She had researched bodysuits, had a vast collection of scarves that could do the trick, and had even considered tights and thermal underwear as vehicles for sexy times.

Gloves were a must, of course, but then they always were. Eating lunch required gloves. Taking notes required gloves. Foreplay definitely required gloves.

She had imagined so many different ways to have sex, yet they all shared one commonality: Logan. Naked, clothed, in a bar, or her bed, when she was 16 or 60, it didn’t matter. In every thought she had about sex, Logan was the one she was doing it with. 

So when he had made that comment a couple of weeks ago about relationships not needing to be normal to be real, it was like the Logan in her head and the Logan in her life were on the same page. Not that he had meant it _that way_. She was certain that Logan had very little investment in her love life, and even less interest in being part of it. He _did_ just run away to mourn Jean’s death, after all.

But even without her realizing, that comment had given Marie hope.

Hope she didn’t want to acknowledge to herself, let alone to Jubilee. 

Marie sighs, exasperated. “All right, Jubes, let’s talk.” 

Jubilee grins and laughs, grabbing Marie around the shoulders and leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me _everything_ ,” Jubilee demands. It’s still not sinking in to Marie that she can touch, despite her friends adapting quickly to the change.

Marie leans into her friend, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling as she speaks. “What am I supposed to be feeling when I’m with Bobby? I mean, not, you know, _with_ him, but doing stuff?”

“Stuff? Girl, you’re an adult. Talk like one. What is this stuff you’re doing but not ‘you know, _doing’_ with Ice Boy?”

Marie blushes again, feeling silly to even speak the words aloud. “I mean, touching, mostly. His hand under my shirt or over my jeans.”

“And?” Jubilee asks, knowing there must be more.

“We’ve… I guess you could say, something like, pressing our bodies against each other.” 

“The Bobster dry-humped you? Well, I guess it’s a start.”

“I don’t know what to do, Jubes. I mean, it feels good, I guess. I just don’t know if I trust myself to know what I want right now because I think anyone touching me would be new and exciting.” 

“Do you get the same feeling when Kitty or me touched your skin as when Bobby did?”

“No, it’s … but then I’m not attracted to you or Kitty.” 

“Okay, let’s try this again. What did you feel when _Logan_ touched you? Storm mentioned he left just after you got back, so I’m assuming your paths crossed.”

Marie is quiet for a minute, confirming Jubilee’s suspicions. When she answers, her eyes show that she’s far away, reliving the memory of their hug. 

“I felt…sparks. Not like when my skin took his in. Not like I was absorbing his mutation or hurting him or anything. Just, it felt like my skin was reaching out for him, craving his touch and responding to it. He was all sweaty and warm and I was nervous and clammy but our skin crackled like electricity when we touched. When Logan held me, I felt safe, and special, and… something else.”

“It’s called arousal, Rogue. You want the Wolverine. No doubt about it.”

  
“Even if that were true, I’m with Bobby. And Logan doesn’t want me like that.” 

“It _is_ true. And I wouldn’t be so sure about who Tall, Dark, and Feral’s sexy thoughts feature.”

“Like you would know, Jubilation Lee. You run away every time Logan enters the room.”

“I managed hand-to-hand combat class with him, didn’t I?” Jubilee protested.

“Barely.” Although that’s pretty much the collective response to Logan’s moods. “I’m the only one who wasn’t afraid of him, I think.”

“That’s pretty obvious. The two of you are quite the pair, girlfriend. And as for Bobby, are you attracted to him at all? Because if not, you should really let him go. It kind of seems like he and Kitty are heading for something.” Jubilee finishes her thought with an apologetic smile.

Marie nods, knowing that being Jubilee must be difficult right now. Between Kitty and Marie, Jubilee probably hears nothing but Bobby talk, not to mention she’s caught between two friends in a love triangle. Still, despite Kitty’s crush, she hadn’t actually done anything, and everyone was aware that Bobby and Rogue were very much together. Marie doesn’t think Bobby is the cheating kind, and wants to believe a friend like Kitty wouldn’t do break up a friendship for a boy.

She could be wrong.

~

There’s a sense of quiet at Alkali Lake now. It could be any other lake in Alberta and no one would ever know that it once housed an underground paramilitary scientific base. No one would know how many people had died here. Logan wouldn’t ever forget, but this place feels different now. There’s a sense of peace to it. The water ripples and calms with the wind and the movements of the creatures in it, and the lake is so big now from the dam bursting that he feels much smaller.

Logan spends almost a week there, meditating and fishing and thinking. He talks to Jean a lot, thanking her for being in his life, asking her for forgiveness. He doesn’t believe in God, and he can’t imagine what kind of an afterlife might be waiting for him, but he tells himself that Jean is at peace, and when he’s here by the place that took her from him, he almost believes it.

He’s a force of nature too, big and strong and unpredictable. His mutation—the man-made part, anyway—comes from this place. It’s fitting, then, that the two things that killed Jean originate here.

He’s as mutable as water, ever-changing and shifting from Logan to the Wolverine and back. In that, water’s constancy fits him too. He has his moments of calm and quiet, and he’s quite the naturalist when he’s at home in his cabin far north of here. The cabin has its own lake, a much smaller one that’s frozen over most of the year. 

He talks to Scott too, venting and commiserating and posturing. Logan isn’t the type to talk to himself, but he’s no stranger to having other people in his head and right now he thinks talking might be just what he needs. 

Purging the demons is as much about talking it out with his dead friends as it is getting himself to let go. Scott would want to be with Jean regardless, and Logan could see that even as he let himself dream she might one day let him in. Jean wanted to die, knew that only Logan could give that to her. The professor he had done everything in his power to save, and even though all of him knew that, even now his self-hatred wins out. 

Logan looks at the tags in his hand.

The image of the stamped metal in his hands draws Logan’s thoughts to Marie. His Marie, who took away part of herself to be more comfortable and convenient for others. Marie, whose fears about love and acceptance defeated her and forced her to hide part of her identity away, to shame it and fear it. He was supposed to set the example for her, for all those kids. As much as he hates the idea of settling down, Logan knows Storm needs him. The X-Men, or what’s left of them, need him desperately. Marie needs him. 

Logan knows it’s time to leave this place. His past can stay buried here beneath the restful waters of Alkali Lake. Maybe one day he can be that peaceful. Logan reminds himself that this water had to burst through the dam, destroying everything in its path, killing and sundering and flooding. 

Once violent and uncontrollable and inescapable, now quiet and still and calm. 

~

Marie finds Kitty and Bobby in the living room later, holed up on the couch together watching some comedy on tv with a popcorn bowl sitting in between them and a couple of chilled sodas on the coffee table in front of them.

She waits in the kitchen, listening to them as they laugh at the television, joking and repeating lines to each other. Bobby’s arm is on the back of the couch, not Kitty’s shoulders, but it’s clearly the precursor to that move. 

“I talked to Storm this afternoon,” Bobby says when a commercial break starts. “She says there may be some positions on staff open since we lost so many faculty. You thinking of coming on to teach?” 

It’s a weirdly formal question, strange enough that Marie wonders if one or both of them knows she’s there and eavesdropping.

“I don’t think so,” Kitty admits. “I want to go to college, and get out of this place. I’ve only stayed on this long because last year with everything going on I didn’t get my applications out in time. I figure a gap year can’t hurt, and this way I have more time to figure out where I want to go. What about you?”

“I guess I’ll have to see what Rogue is planning,” he says. “Now that things are different, we might be able to go somewhere together and be normal.” 

“Bobby, come on. Things will never be normal.”

  
“Well, they could be. I don’t know. College sounds like a good plan, and maybe with her mutation under control I could have Rogue meet my parents again. I haven’t quite forgiven them yet, but I’m sure they’ll come around eventually.” 

“You guys are that serious? I kind of thought you just had that sort of puppy love thing going on? I mean, you don’t _love her_ , do you? Like, forever, marriage, 2.4 kids and dog _love her_?” 

“I don’t know. I could, I think. I don’t think she loves me, though. Even without her mutation, I just sort of feel like she’s closed off from me. Like when I touch her, she cringes.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear this,” Kitty states, looking down.

“Not like that… maybe it’s just because it’s so new. Anyone touching her probably gets that reaction. Like her skin doesn’t know how to be touched yet.”

“She seems fine with me and Jubilee, so I don’t know. I’m probably biased,” she says, blushing. 

So maybe Kitty would throw her under the bus.

“I get the wanting to be normal thing, though. I kind of want to go somewhere crazy for school, like New Mexico or South Carolina. I’ve really only been to places around Illinois, and then here of course.” 

“Same here. I love Boston, and I could spend the rest of my life on Cape, but I really want to see more than just the East Coast. I want to go to California. I know it would be easier to go somewhere icy to blend in, but California seems so interesting and big and exciting.” 

“I doubt Rogue wants to move to California.”  


“I don’t know. She might, once she gets comfortable with showing more skin.” 

“Maybe,” Kitty says, going silent just as the program picks back up on the tv. 

They are quiet as the movie plays, but the silence isn’t as comfortable as it was before, and Marie can see the gears turning in both of their heads.

She needs to commit to Bobby or let him to. This isn’t fair to anyone.

 

 


	4. Obscūrī

It’s late, and Marie and Bobby are cuddled on the couch, some infomercial for a vacuum playing quietly on the tv in the background. A few of the older students, team members, and the remaining faculty ae scattered throughout the mansion, but with all of the younger students asleep, the house was quiet.

Logan opens the door to the mansion quietly, heading upstairs to drop off his pack in his bedroom. He walks down the hallway past what used to be Jean and Scooter’s room. Marie’s room is there, the door ajar and the lights off. He pulls the door open further to look inside, disappointed to find Marie’s not there. Logan had hoped to talk to her as soon as he got back, and it’s late, so he’s not sure where she would be. 

So he goes wandering. First he finds Ice Man’s room, where Piotr is playing video games. Logan nods to the Russian, continuing down the hall thankful that he didn’t find Marie in bed with Bobby.

He’s about to give up the search and decides to see if there’s anything to drink in the kitchen. Yeah, yeah, it’s a school, no alcohol, whatever. Sometimes Chuck stashed scotch in his office, though. Logan heads through the doorway to find Marie and Bobby _very_ intimate on the couch. He backtracks quietly into the kitchen, surprised he didn’t hear or _smell_ them. In the breakfast nook, Jimmy is passed out on the table with a cold cup of hot chocolate just out of reach. Logan smiles and shakes his head. No wonder his feral senses failed him.

Logan takes an embarrassing moment to watch the two of them on the couch, spying on the teenagers. Even behind the back of the couch, Logan has a pretty good view. Marie’s skin is on display, her shirt nearly completely off. The Drake kid is really pressing his luck with where his hands are roaming, but Marie doesn’t seem to mind. 

The self-hatred in him keeps looking but he forces himself to walk quietly away, turning the corner to head to Storm’s office. He probably could have stomped through the whole mansion and the two of them wouldn’t have noticed a thing.

Logan opens the door to Storm’s office, barreling in with renewed purpose. He desperately needs a drink. Logan thinks he should just start keeping whisky in his bedroom, somewhere even the really courageous kids couldn’t find it.

“Logan?” Storm’s usually calm voice startles with her question.

She’s sitting at the professor’s desk, still not looking like she really belongs there. It’s strange to see her running the school and the team, but she’s taking it all in stride. 

“Hey, ‘Ro. Just got back.”

“I see. Welcome home, Logan.”

“I don’t know that’d I’d call it that, but thanks.” 

“I take it you’ve come to sample the professor's scotch, not to catch up?”

“Sorry, Storm, I didn’t think anyone would be in here.”

“Clearly.”

Logan clears his throat and sets his jacket down on a chair, moving to the bar cart to open the crystal decanter and serve himself a healthy pour of the amber liquid. Tumbler in hand, Logan turns to the weather goddess and leans up against the filing cabinet.

“You see what some of your students are doing on the couch out there?” Logan asks, swirling the scotch and sipping at it while he thinks about getting that image of Marie with Bobby out of his mind.

“I did. How do _you_ feel about Rogue’s choice to take the cure, Logan?”

“I didn’t come here for therapy.”

“You came here for a drink. Is that not the same thing?”

Logan lets Storm’s words sink in as he sips the scotch, the liquor warming his throat as it goes down. As far as whiskey goes, he’s much more fond of Canadian rye whisky or even southern bourbon. But this’ll do. And for Chuck’s taste, this scotch was certainly quality.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits to the platinum haired woman. He finishes the drink and sets the crystal tumbler back down on the bar cart.

“I think she made a mistake, but I didn’t realize why until I left.”

“And what is it that you realized?”

“Pushing the Wolverine down makes him want to come out even more. I’m worried Rogue did the same thing with her mutation, and it’s gonna come back in a big way.”

“I am concerned as well. Jubilee was struck with what we believe is a variation on the weaponized cure and lost her powers for a little more than a week. Her shocks have only just started to return, and she got quite a small dose of the cure.”

Logan takes a quiet moment to process this, wishing he had more scotch. 

“I don’t know what she’ll do,” Logan says, not sure whether he wants the cure to keep hold, or her powers to come back. 

“We’ve sent out reconnaissance team members to find Magneto and Mystique. If the cure isn’t permanent, it’s possible that they will regain their powers as well.”

“Good plan.” Logan doesn’t really know what else to say.

“I don’t know for sure, Logan, but if Rogue does regain her active mutation, I am glad that you’ll be there for her.”

Logan goes without saying anything else, this time leaving the mansion entirely. The door closes softly behind him and he heads for the motorcycle.

He needs to fight it out tonight, get pummeled until he can’t think any more, get so drunk his healing can’t get ahead of it. 

He knows it won’t help, but there’s nothing else he can do right now.

~

The infomercial goes on about the suction power and ease of use for some crazy expensive vacuum, but neither Marie or Bobby pay it any mind. They are tumbling on the couch in true teenager fashion, as if they didn’t both have a room upstairs to use instead. Especially Marie, with her private bedroom—they might as well be asking to get caught.

The television plays quietly as Marie’s top comes up, the bare skin of her midriff leading to her stomach, bra, and back all being exposed. Bobby’s hands wander all over, stroking the skin of her ribcage, playing with her covered breasts. Marie’s jeans remain fastened, as do Bobby’s. Both have a sense of urgency about them, but they don’t seem to want to do anything more than what they’re already doing. 

Marie’s mouth plays against Bobby’s, their lips and tongues mingling while they grasp at and grope each other. Marie hears something nearby, turns her head so Bobby is kissing her neck instead, and sees nothing. No one there.

She re-settles, her mind wandering as she feels something _off_. Marie turns them around so Bobby’s on the bottom and she’s sitting on top of him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, aware that they shouldn’t be here. That’s part of the fun.

“I thought I heard something. It’s fine,” she adds.

“Should we go upstairs to your room?” Bobby suggests, knowing that down here they’re not going to get much farther than this.

“Not tonight. Let’s just enjoy this,” Marie responds.

She leans down, running her hands over his shoulders as she steadies herself. Kissing Bobby is nice. He’s sweet and steady and he really likes her.

He really likes Kitty too. 

Marie’s hand goes down to stroke him through his jeans in response to that thought. It’s unconscious, but Marie knows she’s either going to be able to hold onto Bobby or not. This might just help with that.

He’s not fully hard but their grinding on the couch has had some effect. Marie blushes as she feels the response her boyfriend’s body has to her touch and kisses.

Another sound, this time just behind her, and Marie looks up to see what looks like Logan’s leather jacket briskly walking around the corner. Marie blinks and looks again, not sure she could have really seen Logan here all of a sudden in the middle of the night.

Then again, he is known to leave at a moment’s notice, so what’s to stop him from returning in much the same way? 

Marie knows if he didn’t stop to say hello to her then he must be in a mood. Or he just saw her making out with Bobby on the couch and didn’t know how to react to that sight.

Pulling away, Marie pulls her shirt back to its rightful place and inches off of Bobby, setting cross-legged on the couch and putting her face in her hands.

“Are you alright, Marie?”

Bobby means well, she knows. “I’m fine, I just, I’m tired and I think I’m going to bed.”

His brows furrow, light he wonders if he’s done something wrong. “Did I do something…?”

“No, no!” Marie emphasizes, but he doesn’t believe her.

“I just need a break.” 

He nods, and she stands up assuredly from the couch, her long curls whipping around as she turns to wish him good night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bobby.” 

“Sure. Goodnight, Marie.” 

She kisses him briefly, once, and then turns and doesn’t look back as she walks up the stairs and down the hallway. She pauses at her own bedroom but then chooses to walk further, stopping at Logan’s door and going inside.

~

Logan’s back at a bar he fights at a lot in Westchester. It’s just out of town, far enough away that if anyone gets upset they won’t follow him back to the school. Close enough that he can go whenever he needs to, like right now.

The bar’s less of a dive than he’d like. He pulls up a stool to the bar, which is already pretty full, and orders enough Evan Williams to put a human in a coma. Logan relishes the pain as the bourbon burns the back of his throat—it’s nowhere near as smooth as Collingwood, but he doesn’t care what the shit tastes like right now. He wants to burn the image of Marie with Bobby half naked on the couch out of his mind. 

Come to think of it, he’d like to forget that Bobby exists altogether.

She seems happy, he tells himself. He wants her to be happy. Why is it so hard to deal with the two of them together? There’s nothing really wrong with the boy, just that Logan doesn’t want him with Marie. 

The bourbon helps, but not enough.

Logan steps up to the guy running the cage, who recognizes him immediately. “Haven’t seen you here in a while,” he says. 

Logan grunts, and the guy shakes his head. “You don’t say much, but you put on a hell of a show.”

Logan continues to look at him with a blank stare, and the guy nods understandingly. “Got it. I’ll put you in against the champion after this one’s over.”

Logan walks away without a word, grabbing a Molson from the bartender before pulling his jacket off and then his flannel. Tossing the brown leather and the shirt behind the bar, Logan finishes the beer as the crowd cheers on the current fight’s victor. A scraggly blond is limping out of the cage now, blood across his left eyebrow and a bloody nose. The kid can’t be older than twenty or so, but he clearly held his own well enough. 

The announcer names the next challenger as the Wolverine and the reactions from the crowd show that Logan has some followers from the last time he was here. They clearly remember him, for better or worse.

Logan lets himself go, his primal side taking control as the Wolverine comes out to play. He needs this so much, needs to not exist, to not have the worries and burdens of his life. Some days, he wishes his healing factor would fail and let him just be beaten to death.

Not tonight though. Tonight he just needs to beat the pulp out of someone and let the rage and the pain wear him down. Then he needs to go back and tell Marie what Storm told him, and be there for her when her world comes crashing down. 

His challenger is a big bulky guy, looks like he takes steroids and builds muscles for the look of it more than for actual strength. Long light brown hair tied back in a bun, cargo pants, leather cuffs on both wrists. The guy looks like he means business, but Logan knows the Wolverine could have this pretender down in minutes if he wanted. He’s the perfect opponent for tonight though. Enough punch to make Logan feel nothing for a while, and then an easy takedown.

Logan cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders as he feels the tension leave his body.

Bring it on.

~ 

Marie sits on Logan’s bed, curled up against the window he usually smokes his cigars out of, watching for any sign of his return. Based on the fact that his pack is on the floor by the closet, she doesn’t think that he ran again so soon.

It’s late, 1 am now, and Marie is exhausted. She got all worked up on the couch with Bobby, and now she feels out of sorts knowing that Logan was here and already left again without even speaking to her. It’s not like him to go without saying at least something to her.

She pulls Logan’s comforter even tighter around her, the cool air coming in from the open window. She could close it, but she likes the briskness and the cold keeps her grounded. Besides, she doesn’t need a reason to get into Logan’s bed, but she’ll take one.

Hearing a sound through the open window, Marie looks out to see if it’s Logan returning.

Bobby and Kitty, in the courtyard. 

Laughing, joking, and most definitely flirting.

Marie wonders if they took care to stay on this side of the mansion since her bedroom window looks out onto the other side. She hates herself for thinking that either Bobby or Kitty would be that conniving.

There’s no good reason for just friends to be out together past 1 in the morning, looking like they want to fall into bed together, is there?

Then again, Marie is literally in Logan’s bed right now. So, there’s that.

She watches as they have a moment, right after Marie and Bobby are more intimate than they’ve ever been, and now he looks like he’s about to kiss Kitty.

Her boyfriend shouldn’t go off with someone else right after she had her hand practically down his pants. There must be some kind of unwritten rule about that.

Marie turns away from the window, afraid of what she might witness if she keeps watching them. Before she knows it, she’s falling asleep in Logan’s bed.

A noise startles her. Logan is standing there, dried blood on his lip and nose, the bruises and cuts from fighting seemingly already healed. He’s sweaty, but not so much that he is still out of breath.

Marie looks up at him, not sure if she’s in trouble for being in his room (and his bed) or something else.

“Hey, kid,” Logan says, setting his jacket down on the chair and sitting down on the bed beside her.


	5. Cadens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The turn.

“I’m sorry I—” Marie starts to get up and leave, but Logan cuts her off.

“No, Marie, wait. We have to talk.”

She sits up, settling the bed covers around her, suddenly feeling very concerned.

“What is it?”

Logan sighs. “Do you mind if I shower real quick? I wasn’t planning on having this talk tonight, and I wanna clear off the sweat and blood first.”

Marie nods as Logan strips his tank off with one hand, unhooking his belt with the other. The dirty, stained white tank drops to the floor as Logan walks into the bathroom. He leaves the door only slightly ajar, and she appreciates the trust they share between them. He did this before, even when she had her mutation active. That he could be so vulnerable and open with her was a testament to their relationship.

Marie hears rustling as the shower curtain is pulled aside, followed by the telltale sign of jeans dropping to the floor and the water spray from the showerhead hitting Logan’s body as he steps inside.

She takes the time to re-make Logan’s bed and then sits on the edge of it. While she’s waiting, Marie unpacks Logan’s bag and puts his clothes away, setting his few belongings on the dresser where she knows he keeps them.

His shaving kit.

A small chunk of adamantium.

A multitool kit for when his claws just won’t do.

A drawing she did of him a few years ago on a 3x5 notecard, bent and worn at the edges. 

Those few items, all that adorns his dresser besides his keys and wallet.

She puts his bag away, noting sadly how few things Logan has that define who he is. That he could up and leave with just these few items, and no one would ever know he had been here.

She’s looking out the window again when he comes out of the bathroom, jeans back on and towel drying his hair and bare chest.

“Hey, darlin.”

“Hi,” she says, looking back at him. He notices that she put all his things away and smiles.

“C’mere,” he beckons, and she goes straight to him, her hair falling onto his chest as he holds her close. “Thanks for doing that, kid.” When she looks up at him, she sees how upset he is.

“What’s wrong?” 

Logan sighs, pulling away from her to sit down on the bed.

“I’m worried about you, darlin. I talked to Storm tonight, and she said that some of the people who took the cure may be getting their mutations back.”

“What?” Marie looks confused, more than anything.

“The firecracker, she got hit with one of those weaponized cure darts. Apparently it was a pretty low dose, and she’s getting her powers back now a few weeks later. So the idea is, maybe people who took the actual cure will also get their powers back.”

There’s an awkward silence where neither of them says anything. Marie lays back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling while she thinks about what this means.

Logan lays down next to her, staring at the ceiling beside her.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, not sure how she’s taking this.

“I don’t really know,” Marie says. “I don’t like feeling like this thing I chose to do might be taken away from me. And I’m confused, because I’m still not sure it was the right decision in the first place.”

“I get that,” Logan acknowledges.

Without warning, Marie breaks down crying. Logan hears her voice crack next to him and the tears start. He rolls to his side, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. 

“It’s gonna be okay, darlin.”

“Sorry. There’s just a lot happening. I know you saw me’n Bobby on the couch earlier, and I feel weird about that. And Bobby and Kitty are getting together behind my back and I think he might really want to be with her. And there’s—” she breaks off, realizing what she was about to say. Wiping her eyes, she starts again, “And now there’s this. It’s just a lot.” 

“Come here,” he says, pulling them both up to lean against the headboard. “Yeah, I saw you two. But he’s your boyfriend, darlin, and you’re an adult, so what you two do isn’t really any of my business.” It actually _hurts_ to say that, but he knows it’s the right thing. 

“I’m your business,” Marie insists, looking down. “It matters. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. What people do in the bedroom—or out,” he says, with a look, “is their own damn business.”

There’s a moment when Marie thinks she can see the lie beneath Logan’s words, but she doesn’t call him out on it. 

They’re both silent for a minute: Marie trying to move on from the embarrassment of being caught making out by her friend/pseudo-father-figure/ ~~former~~ permanent crush, and Logan trying to figure out if he did an okay job making Marie feel comfortable about him seeing her like that. 

“What did you say about Bobby and Kitty?” Logan asks, remembering her mentioning that in her rambling speech a minute ago.

Marie puts her head in her hands. “I don’t think I’m crazy. I mean, I can’t just be making it all up. I think they like each other. Well, I _know_ Kitty likes Bobby, and he certainly seems to be spending an awful lot of time flirting with her.”

“You see ‘em do anything?”

She nods to the window. “They’re out there right now. You saw me’n Bobby earlier—if that were you and your girlfriend, would you be chatting up another girl a couple of hours later?”

“I’m not exactly the spokesman for monogamy, kid. I’m probably a bad example.”

“Well, if you were with me, then. If I were your girlfriend, and I just underwent a genetic therapy to ensure that we could touch each other, and I were making a real effort to be more intimate, would you run off with Kitty right after doing _that_ on the couch with me earlier?”

As the question is leaving her mouth, Marie realizes she just put them both in a very awkward situation. “Not that you would ever date me, and that probably sounded really arrogant like I think I’m better than Kitty or something, and I really didn’t just get the cure for Bobby, and wow am I just putting my foot in my mouth tonight,” Marie finishes, blushing like a tomato.

“Kid, anyone who’d pick Kitty over you is a fool.”

Marie smiles.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with the girl, it’s just, well, it doesn’t seem like the kid deserves you.”

“Thanks, Logan. You always know just what to say.”

“Do you regret it, then?” he asks.

“Regret what—getting the cure?” Marie confirms.

“Yeah,” Logan nods. “Are you glad you did it?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Marie is quiet, searching for the right words. “I’m glad I can touch—you have no idea what it’s like to go without human affection for that long—but I wish I could have gotten control on my own. I feel like I took a shortcut. Like, if I had let myself have the time and not pressured myself so much, I might have figured it out eventually. But now I don’t even have that option. It seems like it might not even matter anymore, because I guess I never really had a choice to begin with.”

Logan nods, cracking his knuckles.

“Me too, kid. I know what you mean.”

“So now you’re saying my mutation might come back?”

“Maybe. Not for sure. The firecracker is just one mutant. Storm said they’re checking out Magneto and Mystique just in case. But yeah, it might.”

“I don’t know whether to hope for it to come back or stay gone.”

“I don’t know either, kid. What would you do if it came back?”

“I would be the same as before, I guess. Gloves all the time, long sleeves and pants everywhere. Scarves, hair down, keep myself covered. Keep everyone safe.”

“You really think it has to be all that extreme? How often do you really bump into people during the day? Maybe you just need to work on balance, huh, kid?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“ _Logan_ ,” Marie says, groaning, but she gives in and laughs. “I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. And I don’t need anyone else in my head. I thought with my mutation gone all the people might have faded away, but they haven’t. _You_ haven’t.”

“I’m sorry, darlin. I know it must be rough with my past, my nightmares, my memories all locked up in your brain. We’ve never really talked much about that. You need to work through some of it?”

“I’m alright. Yours is nice company for when you’re away or I’m in trouble.”

“Gee, I’m so glad.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” 

He nods understandingly, glancing out the window.

“But yeah, it’s hard with Magneto especially. He has some dark stuff in his past, maybe even darker than yours. I never thought I’d have to live through the Holocaust fifty years later, but that’s what it felt like the first time Erik’s memories took over. I can’t explain how horrible that was.”

“And even with your mutation gone, it’s all still there?”

“Yeah, didn’t change a thing.” 

“Damn, kid. That sucks.”

“Yeah. It really does. I guess I’ll just never be a normal teenager, even without my mutation.”

“What’d I say about things needing to be normal?”

“I know, I know. But just once I’d like to feel like kissing a boy doesn’t have to mean the world comes to an end.” 

“Well, what about now? Even if your mutation does come back, you’ve got time with Ice Man. You two could still…” Logan breaks off. Is he _seriously_ encouraging Marie to sleep with her twerp of a boyfriend before her mutation re-emerges? “I just mean, can’t you do that now?”

“Not with Kitty giving Bobby moony eyes every time she’s around him. And Bobby is certainly not discouraging her. I just don’t know if Bobby’s the one I would even want to do those things with, especially if I’m not going to have my skin off for much longer.”

“I can’t tell you what to do here, kid. It’s a shitty situation all around. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with this, but here we are.”

“Thanks,” Marie says sarcastically. “How very helpful.”

“No bullshit, darlin. I’m not going to paint a pretty picture just so you feel better.”

“I know. It’s something I love about you.” She means that in a purely platonic, sisterly way, of course. 

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t seem to be doing me any favors with anyone else at this damn school.”

“You staying for a while this time?” she asks.

“Maybe. It seems like Storm still needs help with teaching, and as much as I think I’m the last person who should be held accountable for _anyone’s_ welfare and education, there aren’t really many other options." 

“Some of the team members are considering staying on at the end of the year, I think.” 

“You gonna?”

“I don’t know. Bobby and Kitty are talking about going to college. I never even thought that was a possibility. Not after my mutation, I mean. Now, I don’t know.”

“What about your art? Couldn’t you go to a school for that?”

“I’m never going to be able to make a living off that, Logan. It’s hardly worth the trouble. Besides, now that we know my mutation may come back, it seems like it’s not really a good option anyway.”

“Hell, kid, you have to live your life. You can’t shut yourself away and hide from everything that’s scary or confusing.”

“I know that!” Marie protests, a little louder than she should in the middle of the night. “I know,” she repeats, quieter now. 

Marie yelling breaks the tone of their conversation, and she looks at the clock. It’s nearly 2 am.

“I’ll go,” she says. “I should get some sleep anyway. You wanna have lunch together tomorrow?” 

“Sure kid. We okay?”

“More than okay. I just have some thinking to do. You making me face all these questions isn’t a bad thing, it’s just that I know you’re right and I’m scared.”

“I’m scared too, darlin. I wantcha to be happy, whatever that means.” He can see that her eyes are welling up with tears, but Marie smiles through them and leans in to give him a brisk hug, then bounds off the bed and out the door rather than let him see her cry again.


	6. Raptus

Days went by, and Marie’s outlook on her situation had not changed much. She was still in a relationship with Bobby, who seemingly wanted Kitty, who _definitely_ wanted Bobby. And truth be told, she really wanted Logan. But she and Logan would never be together like that, so why even bother considering the possibility?

Still, it’s a new day, and if Marie’s mutation is really going to come back, she might as well enjoy it while she can.

Marie puts on a sleeveless dress, grabbing a sweater only because she really doesn’t want to freeze. She’ll take quite a bit of cold now that she doesn’t have to be covered up all the time.

Pulling a hairband out of her drawer, Marie grabs her long hair with one hand, gathering the loose ends and wrapping the elastic around the ponytail with the other. She twists and loops until the elastic is holding her hair up in a high, loose bun, some of her platinum streaks hanging down to frame her face.

Ready to face the aftermath of last night, Marie goes in search of her boyfriend. If she can still call him that.

Marie thought a lot last night after returning from her conversation with Logan, and had come to a pretty radical conclusion. Regardless of whether she got her mutation back, she didn’t want to be with Bobby anymore. Marie had decided, after a lot of introspection, that even though she did like Bobby, her attachment to Logan would probably always hold their relationship back, and Bobby seemed happy enough to try something out with Kitty.

So here she is, heading to Bobby’s room, about to break up with a boy for the first time. Well, to be fair, she _had_ ended things with David, just accidentally. And it’s not like she’s ever been on the other side of this either.

Still, Marie’s panic twists into her stomach, knotting and tensing and making her feel even worse.

A knock on Bobby’s door, and it opens within a few short moments. When Bobby sees her, she spies a flash of disappointment in his eyes, before a smile crosses his face and he reaches to kiss her.

She lets herself in, gently pulling herself out of Bobby’s brief kiss to move away and sit in his desk chair. He drops ungracefully onto the bed, resting his palms on his thighs and running them over his jeans a few times in anxiety. 

“What’s wrong, Marie?” he asks outright when the silence becomes too uncomfortable.

“We were kidding ourselves, Bobby. You and I both know we shouldn’t be together. You… you want to be with Kitty, and I’m done with standing in the way of that." 

He looks like he’s going to protest, but she holds a hand up, and the look in her eyes is serious. This isn’t the time for games.

“I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You clearly like her, Bobby. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you look at me the way you look at Kitty.”

“Maybe it’s because when I’m looking at you, you’re always looking at Logan.” The words come out before he has a chance to temper them, and Marie looks stricken.

“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to mitigate the damage he has inflicted with that offhanded comment. Even though it’s true.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, and neither of them is sure whether she means the comment or the truth behind it: Logan isn’t ever going to be with her the way she wants, but it doesn’t stop her from dreaming.

“You don’t have to play the martyr, Marie,” Bobby says, continuing, “Fight for me. If you want to be with me, show me. At least with Kitty I feel wanted.” 

“After everything we’ve done, you still don’t think I want you?!” she exclaims, disbelieving.

“I feel like just a means to an end with you, Marie. When I touch you now, I don’t even know if you feel me.” 

“And Kitty’s better?” she asks, not really wanting an answer.

“That’s not what I said. But she _does_ want me, Marie, and something tells me you’re not so sure.” 

Marie settles her hands, allowing them to come to rest in her lap. Her nails are painted a deep purple—not so different than when she had her mutation, but now she’s not the only one who gets to see them.

“This doesn’t have to be so hard. Let’s just say ‘see you later’ and move on, you know? I do want you to be happy, Bobby. I really do. I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job.” 

He smiles sadly like he wants to say it shouldn’t have to be a job, but he stays quiet, thinking a moment. 

Then, Iceman stands up, takes Marie into a tight hug, and kisses her cheek. “You deserve to be happy too, Marie,” he tells her. “If the Wolverine knows what’s good for him, he’ll—” 

Marie breaks him off, shaking her head and putting one finger across his lips. 

She pulls away, not wanting to extend this moment any longer. Despite the relative painlessness of this breakup, she still feels like she’s going to break down in tears the moment she finds the safety of her bedroom.

Before she leaves, Marie turns to him and gently but firmly advises him, “You oughta start calling me Rogue again, Bobby. I’d rather that name not be public knowledge. That, and it seems like my mutation should be coming back soon.” 

His shocked look says Jubilee hasn’t gone blabbing to Kitty in the same way the firecracker had to her. That, or he didn’t put the pieces together the way that Storm and Logan had. Even so, she can see the look of pity that he’s desperately trying not to let show.

And beyond that, a glimmer of relief that he’s not dooming himself to more of a relationship with an untouchable woman.

~

Marie waits until she’s in the hall where her room is before she lets herself break down. It comes quickly and quietly, surprising her as the tears come forcefully out. She can’t stop them, so she just gives in, opening her door and finding herself a space on the bed to curl up in and cry.

Before she knows it, the tears are heaving sobs. She has a headache now, a tense pain in her temples and behind her eyes from the crying. Her nose is running, and she knows without looking that her ears and face are red.

Marie closes her eyes and tries to quiet her tears, evening out her breathing the way Logan has shown her with one of their meditation sessions. Much less frequent than fighting and training, certainly, but of late he’s been less rage-y and more contemplative.

She’s so focused on her breathing that she doesn’t hear the knock on the door, or the ensuing entry of Logan into her bedroom.

“Hey, kid,” he says, breaking her out of her reverie.

  
She sits up, looks at him like she can’t quite understand why he’s here. “How did you…” she starts and then remembers. “You heard me crying,” she says. 

His nod confirms it. “I just wanted to check and see that you’re alright. Is it because of the other night? What we talked about, with your mutation and whatnot?” 

She shakes her head, wiping away the remnants of tears from her eyes and cheeks. “I broke up with Bobby.”

He closes his mouth then, unsure of what to say, and instead sits down with her. He reaches out to take her hand, clasping her warm fingers in his in an attempt to convey without words his support for her. 

Instead, her mutation pulls him in. Ever so briefly.

Marie pulls her hand back, aghast and embarrassed, and on the positive side, now without a headache.

She looks down at her hand, as if her skin looks different to her now. She can’t see any difference, doesn’t feel anything. The moment is gone, and she reaches out to take his hand once again, this time very tentatively. She knows from the fact that she absorbed Logan’s thoughts and feelings, and because _she_ is the one that pulled away, that he’s not afraid of her. He’d never been afraid of her, even though she had nearly killed him twice with her mutation, and had close calls many more times than that. 

He takes her hand in his without a second thought, There is no reaction, from her skin anyway. Logan smiles gently, stroking his fingers over her hand aimlessly. She’s not ready to be wearing gloves again, not when going bare results in these kinds of touches. She’s very glad not for the first time that Logan doesn’t absorb _her._

“It’s happening,” she says, unnecessarily. “I can’t believe it’s really coming back.”

“You lived with it before. You’re stronger now.”

“That wasn’t living,” she admits.

“No, but it wasn’t your skin that held you back. That was all you.”

She meets his eyes then, unsure if she’s ready to accept that truth. 

“It doesn’t have to be the end of the world, Marie. Your mutation protects you. Maybe instead of fighting against it, you could learn to live with it. Stop apologizing for the space you take up in the world and accept that it’s a part of who you are.”

“When did you become the poster child for accepting your mutation?” she asks, a bit of snark seeping into her voice. If Logan has found peace, she can only be happy for him. She just can’t fathom finding her own. 

“Way I figure it, things are either going to suck, or they’re not. I can’t waste what time I have to be happy by worrying about it. I guess it’s the same with you. Either you’ll get control one day, or you won’t, but in the meantime, you still have to live.” 

“Canada did you right, Logan. You seem… better.”

“I went back,” he says. She knows exactly where he means. Not home to Yellowknife, not to Dawson City. No. He somehow ended up back at Alkali Lake.

Damn, she wishes he hadn’t had to do that alone. He was grieving enough about Jean, he didn’t need to return to the place she had died. Not the Jean that he killed—the one he had lost.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean to. I just ended up there one day and decided to take some time to make my peace.” 

“And did you?” Marie asks.

“You can’t tell?” he asks, echoing her own words from weeks ago.

“You do seem more…stable,” she observes, and he raises an eyebrow and her before sighing in acknowledgment. He wasn’t exactly the most stable guy, he had to admit. 

“It’s not like me and the Wolverine are best buddies all the time now. I’m just not gonna fight him so much. We’re the same, me’n him, and hurting him hurts me eventually too. So, yeah, I guess I am kinda the poster child now. Huh.” He looks down and shakes his head, smiling. “Whatever. This isn’t about me. This is about you. I faced my demons. Have you?”

She hadn’t been molested or assaulted. Her father loved her. The boys at school never mistreated her. The truckers on the way to Alaska hadn’t been the most upstanding of gentlemen, but she had never felt backed into a corner. Really, the first reason she had had to use her mutation defensively had occurred _after_ she manifested. There was no rhyme or reason to it, and so Marie had no idea what kind of demons she might even have to face to make peace with her skin.

“I’ve faced a lot of yours, and Erik’s, but no, I guess not.”

“Maybe you oughta.”

“Don’t you think if it were as simple as meditating and opening up some of those little boxes in my head, the professor would have helped me figure that out a long time ago?” Her question comes out indignant, like he thinks he suddenly has the solution when Marie has been working tirelessly with the teachers and the professor for years. 

And where had he been? Away, for a lot of it. He had no idea what she had gone through to try to get control of her mutation.” Resentment builds in Marie’s chest, and she can feel it winding into her shoulders and her belly and making her itchy for a fight.

“You wanna head down to the Danger Room?” Logan asks, sensing the rage building in her. “Might help.”

She considers the offer, weighing her building resentment against her desire to see Logan sweaty again. Her desire wins out and she nods.

“Meet you down there?” she suggests. “I’m gonna change.” 

“Sure thing, kid.”

By the time Logan walks out the door, Marie is forgotten why she’s going to the Danger Room in the first place.

~ 

Marie’s dress comes off, and she switches into her joggers and running shoes, swapping out her bra for a sports bra. She considers the athletic shirts she has available, tempted to choose a long or three-quarter sleeved one in the knowledge that her mutation is reactivating. Instead, she chooses a sleeveless tank, practically a muscle shirt. She usually wears it under something, or to bed—if it’s particularly hot and she can lock the door against the danger to intruders.

Now, though, as Marie pulls it over her head, she takes in the sight of her bare arms. Weapons against anyone but Logan. Well, even to Logan she is pretty damn dangerous. 

Refastening her hair into a tighter ponytail and pulling the stray platinum strands away from her face, Marie makes one last check in the mirror before rushing downstairs. Logan hates to be kept waiting—irony of ironies—and won’t be happy to find her primping while he’s getting set up.

She finds him pummeling a heavy bag hanging from the portion of the Danger Room dedicated to skills and weight training. It’s smaller and has lower ceilings than the domed room where the simulations run, but it’s still imposing and stark.

“Took you long enough,” he says with a huff, not breaking his stride as he finishes a final hit combo and then steps away from the bag. 

She doesn’t apologize.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks, not sure if he’s hoping for a session like the combat class he taught, or a sim like the one she witnessed weeks ago when he was absorbed in his grief.

Logan shrugs, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles with loud metallic pops.

“I figured we could spar a bit—no claws, of course. Wanna see if those hand-to-hand techniques I taught you stuck.”

“I’ve learned everything you’ve ever tried to teach me, Logan,” she says, something hovering at the edge of her voice unsaid.

“Yeah, well. I bet you need to get rid of that rage burning inside you right now, and fighting’s a good way to do it.” He, too, leaves the obvious statement unsaid. He’s always told her, it’s fighting and fucking that does the trick. He didn’t ever ask her to choose, just picked fighting.

Marie’s always known fucking is off the table, so she’ll take what she can get.

“Sure. Sounds good to me.”

“Great, kid.”

She looks at his white tank and then down at her own bare arms, suddenly more worried than when she chose the outfit upstairs. “What about my skin, Logan? I don’t know if I’ll realize if my mutation comes on, and I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Hell, darlin, I said no claws, not no mutations. You get a chance to take me down, take me down. I can’t promise I’ll stay down long, though,” he says with a grin. 

She looks dubious, still unwilling to hurt him despite her earlier anger and him patronizing her.

“Fine. But don’t pull any punches. You hurt me bad enough, I’ll just get to put you on your ass healing myself.” 

He laughs, then sobers. “None of that until your mutation is back full swing, kid. I’m not gonna take the chance I could really hurt you and not be able to fix it.” 

She considers that for a moment, then nods once and drops into a fighting stance, her knees partially bent, her arms up and ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice—not that she’s anywhere near as fast as Logan, but she tries—and smiles, ready for his assault.


	7. Pressī

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is paternalistic and Marie is rebellious, but they might yet find a middle ground.

Before she knows it, Marie is on her back on the ground, Logan’s heaving body pressing into her to keep her down. She’s torn by her desire to have him this close to her and her urge to _win, win, win._ Win something. She needs a victory right now.

Marie grapples with Logan using a few of the maneuvers he had taught the class a while back, certain that he’ll be able to counter them easily. But he doesn’t count on her skin firing on suddenly.

One second, his sweaty arms are entwined with hers, their shirts both carelessly askew with the strain of wrestling one another to the ground, and then Marie quite immediately has the upper hand. She doesn’t even realize what’s happening until Logan drops, going limp beside her.

Marie feels her heart beating fast, knows her senses are only going to be elevated for so long, but she’s surprised her mutation was on enough to do any real damage. He regains his strength before long, swiping her off her feet by hooking his leg around her ankles and pulling before she realizes it.

But this time, she’s faster too. Logan’s quick jolt to her senses means she can hear the beat of his heart, feel the change in his breath, see the infinitesimal shifts in his posture and chest as he decides how to move. She anticipates his next attack, sidestepping him and landing a kick to his side as he comes back around to attempt another move. This time, his big hands grab hold of one of her arms and twist, using the pain of her limbs to press her down and subdue her. Marie lets him pin her, making herself into dead weight so that he has to work harder to control her while maintaining his own balance. It’s one of the first tricks he taught them, but Logan can hold her with one hand, no problem, so it doesn’t do much against him. Still, he should be proud that in the moment she remembers her training.

To bring Logan down, though, she’d need an army, so instead she chooses her surrender thoughtfully. She considers the way his hand is gripping her arm, and then decisively jerks out of his grasp, jamming one of his fingers to distract him with pain as she does so. She faces him once more, noting that both of them are sweaty and hot, their faces red—hers more than just from the fighting.

As she’s drawing him towards her, Marie considers that they’re actually fairly evenly matched right now. If Logan had his claws out, she would be dead in an instant. Without them, and with her mutation returned, Marie has much more of a fighting chance.

Still, the fight has helped ease her resentment, and now the desire builds once again inside her. She grabs at Logan, trying to find a good grip for one of the holds he taught her, and he follows suit. His hands on her distract her just enough, but she maintains focus and uses her body to pull him down, pinning him to the mat. Logan easily overpowers her, reversing their positions so his own heaviness holds her to the floor. His arms hold her much smaller ones, keeping one hand twisted down and around her back, and the other above her head where she can’t do any harm with it.

Once again, Marie’s mutation fires up abruptly, and Logan lets go an instant later, realizing too late that without holding his body up, he falls on top of her, adamantium skeleton and all. Marie lets out a groan as his weight restricts her breathing, but considers then how every part of Logan is pressed against her.

Marie sees something change in his eyes, and then he’s pulling himself up off of her, laughing under his breath.

“Damn, darlin. I knew you could pack a punch, but you really had me going there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly go out with the team in tank tops. I don’t think it would be good for morale.”

“I don’t just mean your mutation, although that is seriously coming back with a vengeance,” he says, shaking his head as though he’s still hazy from her skin’s pull. “No, kid, I mean the fighting. You really do remember all the tricks, huh?”

“They don’t work very well on you,” she admits, remembering how easily he held up her dead weight.

“Well I don’t go around teaching kids how to find my weak spots, do I?”

“No, but I’m sure I could find a few,” she says, a twinkle in her eye.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he comments. They’re both thinking of her laying down in the back of his trailer, the look in her eyes the only reason he didn’t leave her in the middle of the Canadian wilderness.    

She’s always known his weak spots. After all, she’s one of them.

There’s a stillness in the air as he helps her up, her skin blissfully dormant as she takes his proffered hand and pulls herself off the Danger Room floor.

“Thanks,” she says, not just for the help but also for the sparring, a smile quirking her lips. She really needed that, more than she knew. 

She’s still itchy, but now it’s for a different reason, and Marie knows she’ll think about his body pressed against her tonight when she’s alone. Now that she has no boyfriend, Marie imagines she’ll be feeling that frustration more than normal.

“I’m gonna go shower,” Marie says, breaking the silence. “Dinner tonight?”

“Sure, darlin. Don’t forget—no gloves.”

Marie glares at him, but knows he’s right.

When Marie heads back up to her room, Logan runs a hand through his disheveled, sweaty hair. He shifts his pants, checking to make sure he’s presentable, and heads upstairs as well.

_That girl’s gonna be the death of me_.

~

Marie can’t let herself hope, but honestly the desire she feels for Logan is a great distraction from her sadness about breaking up with Bobby. When she spies Bobby and Kitty kissing on the couch as she passes through the living room on her way up the stairs, she knows she made the right decision, but it still hurts. Besides, she could have easily put Bobby in a coma just like David had she not known about her mutation returning. She doesn’t need Bobby in her head any more than she already has him.

Marie looks at herself in the mirror after picking the sweaty cottons from her damp skin, thinking about her body. She’s a weapon, she’s never going to be able to escape that. Now people like Magneto will keep coming for her. 

Magneto.

She had forgotten for a moment. Logan had said it, that they were going after Magneto and Mystique, just in case. Now she’s sure they might be very difficult to track down.

Marie was safe enough here. Now, college was probably out of the question. She would have to just stick around here, where she’s not a huge freak for being covered up. Well, she still stands out like a sore thumb, but not as much as she would in Mississippi.

When Marie meets up with Logan later, she makes sure she has her gloves with her but doesn’t wear them. She’s comfortably dressed, exposing quite a bit of skin, but with a sweater to easily cover up should her mutation surface. Why it has arisen only for Logan probably says something about her inner turmoil. After all, didn’t they tend to manifest during puberty when teenagers are going through numerous hormonal and physical changes? Well, for Marie, the past few weeks have been pretty tumultuous. 

She has tight jeans and boots on, and when Marie goes in to hug Logan she swears she feels his arm slip a little lower than her waist, but she shrugs it off.

Logan motions for her to get into his truck, the pickup’s bench seating providing just the right amount of comfortable distance between the two of them, especially given her skin’s unpredictability.

He takes her out like this sometimes, to restaurants in town and sometimes even to dive bars on nights he isn’t planning to fight. She’s never been able to drink out in public with him, but he often lets her have a beer when they’re alone at the mansion. The drinking age in Canada is much lower, and Marie’s got enough years in her head to be dead several times over, so the point is pretty moot anyway. 

Tonight, they find themselves at a BBQ joint, one of only a couple in the area. For some reason, people from the deep south and the mid-atlantic don’t tend to find themselves opening up BBQ restaurants in small town New York state. They order, and Logan looks queerly at her over his menu, watching her peek every few seconds at her hands to make sure they aren’t anywhere close to his, and that no server is walking by who might accidentally graze her hands. 

“Quit it, Marie,” Logan scolds. He takes her wrist in his, more roughly than he wants to. Her skin is silent, her mutation currently absent. “See?” he asks. “It’s fine.”

“For now,” she mutters gloomily.

“So try turning it on. See if you can make it happen,” he says, shaking her wrist a little to make her skin react.

“No,” Marie says, her menu falling out of her other hand to rest once again on the table. “I don’t want to. Not here, in public.”

They’re speaking quietly enough that no one would be understand the content of their conversation, if they overheard it at all. Logan gentles his grip, taking her hand in his instead of simply letting her wrist go. 

“Try.” He holds her hand in his, unafraid. “Try and turn it on.”

She thinks about her skin like a light switch and tries to imagine flipping it on. Nothing happens. Instead, her hand starts to sweat from its proximity to Logan as her nerves and desire take over.

Logan doesn’t let go of her hand.

She looks over at him, wondering which one of them will crack first. She tries feebly to pull her hand away, but he holds it fast. She lets out a sigh and turns back to her menu, content to let him hold her hand if he’s so insistent on it.

Logan is glancing at the bar considering whether he should order a beer when he feels the pull again. He holds on, waiting for Marie to notice. It’s a quiet, slow pull this time, like molasses sticking to him and pulling his skin along as it flows. 

When Marie feels the pull, she panics and attempts to rip her hand away from his. He holds her hand tight, watching as Marie looks around. The pull is slow enough that nothing shows on his face, but Marie can feel him flowing into her. When she fails to remove her hand from his grasp, Marie lets go of the tension inside of her.

Aware that they’re in a public place, Marie prays her mutation will turn off before she knocks Logan out. She calms her breathing and looks at him, seeing the trust shining out of them at her. Even though he’s clearly in pain, Logan is smiling slightly and holding tighter to her hand than before, his free thumb grazing over the back of her hand to demonstrate his ease.

_How can he be this calm?_ Marie frantically wonders, but then considers what she’s actually getting from Logan in this quiet sapping of his thoughts, senses, and life. There’s so much trust, something that feels like love, and absolutely no fear. She can feel his concern for her, that the longer he holds onto her the more of him that’ll end up in her head, but no concern for his own well-being. Just a radiating confidence in her and a desire to see her happy.

Marie hopes to the very core of her being that she won’t hurt this man. He’s known so much pain, and yeah, he’s doing this to himself. But she never wants Logan to be hurt. She certainly doesn’t want to be the one causing it.

Before she knows it’s happening, the pull stops. Marie doesn’t know what she’s done to change things, and it’s unclear if she can replicate it.

It doesn’t matter. Whether Marie actively shut the mutation off or not isn’t the point. Logan’s belief in her, his trust, her unwillingness to hurt him are all that matters.

Marie feels her heart rate calming, sees the waitress coming to take their order. Marie hears herself speak in a haze, watching across the table as Logan follows suit. She sees the waitress glance down at their hands, then away.

Marie feels euphoric. Logan speaks calmly to her but she barely hears him, high on the feelings she’s just pulled from him. Marie doesn’t know if anyone else has ever trusted her that much, enough that they’d literally put their life in her hands.

“That’s what you feel?” she asks blankly, and his eyes dart towards her, unsure of what she’s pulled from him.

He squeezes Marie’s hand tighter in reassurance, but doesn’t say anything.

“You really, I mean, no one’s ever. It’s not like I’m in danger, Logan. You didn’t have to—“

“Goddamn it, Marie, your life shouldn’t have to be in danger to touch me.”

“You think I want that? I wish I could touch you all the time but I—” Marie breaks off, realizing as Logan does what she has just said.

They both quiet for a minute. He’s not angry with her, she knows. He wants Marie to be freer than she feels, wants her to feel less confined by the skin that dominates her every waking thought and decision.

The silence holds steady, both waiting to see if the other will play it off like that doesn’t mean but they both think it means. They could go on pretending, not acknowledge the thing between them.

But not anymore.


End file.
